Forgive and Forget
by SoundsRight
Summary: Easier said than done, of course. I'm probably wrong, or am I right? Rated M for sexual themes. England/Japan.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**Warning****: This is a BL (BoysLove) fic. If you are not interested or strongly against it, I insist that you should look for something else to read. Thank You.  
**

..

"Please. Don't bother with it. You're too late, and it's not your entire fault—it's the others," he says in a grave tone. The two of them are in the other's house; it is what a simple, traditional Japanese home usually looks like. They are facing each other with two cups of hot tea on top of a low, black table in between the both of them. They are looking at each other with rigid and cold eyes. An invisible wall once broken is now becoming much thicker and stronger.

The other keeps a straight, serious face as if it could not be changed and nods his head. "Yes," the smaller man agrees. Though, a tiny hint of hesitation is felt from him. He glances away for a second and looks back at the glaring Englishman. "I understand, but I still wish to express my remorse for what I've done to you and your men."  
"Are these the same words that you told Alfred?"  
"…No."

"It's kind of you to say such moving words for me, then." Arthur's voice is pure of sarcasm and menace; it is unwavering even if his anger is clearly rising. Even as one could tell what he is feeling, he talks as if he is merely scolding a child and will forget about it in the next minute or so. "It's a fucking waste, really," he assures that it is not the case, at all.

A suffocating silence fills the air. The Englishman slowly stands up and takes three small strides towards the other; he kneels down by him. Kiku turns his head to find emotions severely flickering and swirling about in Arthur's eyes.

Unforgiving and slight hatred—"I expect a lot from you to redeem yourself by. We don't need any more illusions and underhanded acts," the Englishman whispers, slowly pulling the other into a loose hug. "I shall try my best to do so," Kiku replies but with a more monotonous voice than anything else.

There was also doubt and pain; suffering souls of the many unlucky and deceased emerges—"Your best would not be enough, I'm sure," Arthur smiles darkly, unbeknownst of the other. "We would never forgive what you've done to us. Even if the surviving men were to die right now, their children and grandchildren already hate you. I would still be here as well, mind you."

The Englishman gently pushes the other down to the floor, and the smaller man complies with no resistance. "Surely, you feel the same way about Alfred…and even towards me and the rest. If not every day, then it would be at this time or that."

Arthur crawls and hovers over Kiku. The Japanese man lays unmoving and with his arms stiffly by his sides. The taller man is shown with blank stares that glimmer with the same things he's feeling. "You are correct," the man beneath agrees coolly. "But I would like to stop that, it is only right to move on."

The Englishman takes off one glove on hand with his teeth; he throws it away at a random direction and is immediately forgotten. His bare hand brushes over the other's neck and goes down to slightly part Kiku's kimono and expose scarred, porcelain skin. "There is still some fallacy in your words, but am I still not one of your closest allies?"

"You are," Kiku says simply as the Englishman removes the obi whilst kissing his pale shoulder. The smaller man busies himself with unbuttoning the other's waistcoat and shirt—"Is this really necessary?" he asks, not stopping with his sudden task; he already knows the answer, but the words happened to blurt out.

Arthur stops, hovers above again and smiles smugly at the other. His gloved hand traces a quick line across the other's cheek and frisks away stray strands of hair. "Aside from money, programs and promised visits, is there nothing you could do for me, in the least?"

The Englishman leans in and gives a chaste, lingering kiss despite the terms they are now in. "We both know what we feel when one of our own dies; we suffer even if we have yet to lift a finger." Arthur finally removes the sash keeping the kimono together. He slowly parts the coarse fabric apart and reveals more of the other's skin. "Something pleasurable must be given for the haunting pain and memories, if not to replace them completely. The things you have already provided are either still not enough or already useless to make of, as you can see."

He removes his shirt and vest as the other patiently waits while having to feel the cool air breeze over his fully naked front. Kiku's arms snake their way around the Englishman's neck, and he closes his eyes as Arthur leans in once more for a kiss.

This time, though, a little more intimacy is felt between the two.

They open their mouths without either of them asking, and their tongues slide and swirl against one another's; Kiku pulls the Englishman closer to deepen it even more. Arthur ghosts his bare and gloved fingertips against the other's sides. His hands stop at the hips before one hand encloses the smaller man's growing erection.

Kiku slightly shudders at the touch as he feels the hand move up and down repetitively. As he is reaching to his climax, the other stops abruptly; he moans for it to continue. The smaller man feels Arthur's smile in the kiss. The Englishman does not obey.

Both of them almost roll over by the other, but Arthur stops it and ends the kiss whilst doing so. The two of them lay on their sides. "Getting impatient, are you?" he mocks, amused. He looks at the other with half-lidded eyes; a shade of playful but merciless green that darkens even more in the soft afternoon light—eyes of war that is all too familiar from the past. Kiku ignores the taller man's gaze and buries himself against the other. His member throbs irritatingly from the sudden lack of attention.

He moves one arm from around the Englishman's neck, and his free hand brushes over the other's shoulder as if to wipe something away. He moves closer and bites it until blood draws out. Arthur clicks his tongue and frowns. Kiku's eyes are open and a reddish tinge replaces the cool, onyx colour that is usually there. The smaller man smiles lightly at the other's impulsive punishment.

He leaves the seeping blood to trickle down their bodies and licks the other's neck, jaw line then to the bottom of the ear; he bites that, as well. More blood is drawn out. The Englishman curses silently.

Arthur pulls the both of them to sit up and to stop the other; the smaller man sits on the other's lap as his kimono falls off his shoulders and hangs by the crooks of his arms. Kiku feels an obvious bulge from the taller man and uses both of his hands to unbutton and unzip the Englishman's pants— a stiff member is taken out.

They are looking at each other intently. They are talking by staring at one another; a number of words and emotions are already exchanged and understood. No other but them will know what is said or felt. Both eyes previously as of like when they are in battle gradually fades into familiarity and comfort… trust and maybe even longing.

"I'm sorry," Kiku softly says and smiles sadly. The other knows exactly what is being talked about again.

"You know that I apologise as well," Arthur replies almost reluctantly but has finally decided to say so. Has the other been forgiven? Probably… not completely. The smaller man's smile becomes a bit more optimistic, but it's because of the other's raw ability to hold resentment; his hands cup the Englishman's face, and the two of them lean towards one another for a sweet, coppery-flavoured kiss.

In this one, they both mean it.

Slowly and almost without saying anything, Arthur enters Kiku. The Englishman thumbs away the tears brimming at the other's eyes as he moans at the painful and pleasuring feels inside him. The smaller man pants lightly as the other's erection is fully in him. Both of his hands are now holding onto Arthur's shoulders as a means of support; he lifts himself up and down again but does not move after that. He faintly shivers.

The Englishman kisses the other's sweating brow, and he does a small thrust right after; the pain turns into more pleasure. An adorable noise sounds from the smaller man. White, sticky fluid almost crosses paths with the thin lines of dried blood at his stomach; Arthur smiles rather perversely at the blushing Kiku who just came.

"Sorry, love," he nearly laughs, already knowing the reason of the other's sudden burst. The Englishman sucks and licks at the other's jaw line and neck as if it were enough as reparation. Kiku looks away to hide his face full of embarrassment. Numerous red spots from on his pale skin.

Arthur leans the smaller man against the edge of the low table; Kiku feels uncomfortable but does not say anything. The Englishman kneels and puts his hands under the other's lower back—he lifts it up and the one underneath now has his back on the table. He motions the other to widen his legs and is obeyed.

Pleasured moans sound from Kiku as the other thrusts in and out of him. One cup of tea drops into the floor immediately, but the other falls into the table first to spill its contents before rolling off into the ground. The spreading liquid dampens the smaller man's hair, back and kimono. Neither of them cared about it.

No words or chants of names are heard from either one of them; there are only inevitable sounds and twitches and thrusts of pleasure and delight. They don't need to speak, and they both know this. They know a good number of the other's limits and how they act or react. These are one of the things they are sure about of one another: it's rather much of a waste of time and breath to cry anything out as the other can clearly show their thoughts from the way they move and moan.

A very silent, mutual and observing relationship, if there are no better words to call it.

The two kiss each other—they break apart at the Englishman's final thrusts and both came—they reconnect their lips once more as Arthur pulls out from Kiku.

"We're a mess," Arthur comments amusingly as he stands; he helps the other up. The Englishman hugs Kiku in a tight embrace and plays with the dark, wet strands of hair. The smaller man returns the gesture and agrees. "We can go into the bath outside."  
"That would be wonderful, thank you."

The two part but remain to hold hands and intertwine fingers as a sign of the lingering feel of intimacy and fondness for one another. They don't bother to fix themselves as they walk out of the room. Both of their heads swirl in arousal and half-fulfilled satisfaction. They are not done yet, it seems.

The issue from earlier on is temporarily forgotten; both of them are in good terms again as like in the first time they really became close to one another. How can they remain complete enemies when they still celebrate and cherish their love and friendship?

One cannot guarantee that it shall stay that way forever, though.

And yet, maybe it shall. Who knows?

If the remaining scars in their bodies would be of no problem, then this is where everything is finally forgiven and forgotten.

**..**

**Sexy Time in more detail is fun to write but somewhat embarrassing if it's your first time to write such things; the story doesn't give much fangasm, but I'll practice. **

**I hope this is fine, though. How is it?  
The original plan was that Kiku offers a date since Arthur won't stop asking for compensations, but it became sex initiated by the Englishman himself.  
Ha ha ha. Oh well.**

**I won't do any extra chapter for notes since the following websites can explain most things (and that I might accidentally commit copyright infringement).  
But if you want to ask me about a few things, please don't hesitate to do so.  
(Remember to remove the spaces)**

Published at 12th January, 1998:  
news . bbc . co . uk / 2 / hi / uk_news / 46730 . stm

Published at 24th May, 2007:  
www . bdnews24 . com / details . php ? id = 72350 & cid = 30

Published at 16th August, 2009:  
www . theage . com . au / world / japans-apology-angers-pows-20090815-elql . html

**They can really hold a grudge, can they?**

**Ah. Those two really do consider one another in good diplomatic relations—they've already celebrated their 150****th**** anniversary together last year, and it was also called "UK-Japan 2008" (a year of UK-themed programs and the like in Japan to promote UK-Japanese collaborations). **

**World War 2 doesn't stop them, how adorable. I love this pairing even more.**


End file.
